


B-Negative

by manic_intent



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-27
Updated: 2011-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 5 Acts thing on livejournal, for toestastegood's 'Vampire AU' Act. This was originally going to be some sort of True Blood parody, but it somehow became a bit more serious. :/</p>
            </blockquote>





	B-Negative

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toesohnoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Вторая отрицательная](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133364) by [Deiko (Gellert)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gellert/pseuds/Deiko)



> Eh, it seems like people are putting their fics up on AO3 because of the gift thing. Some of mine are really, really short, not sure if I should put up anything shorter than 1k words.

Wednesday had been chugging gently along up until the stranger in the black turtleneck fell into Charles' comfortably mundane life like a bolt of lightning. It had been a day of mostly regulars and no neighborhood crazies, tourists or paranormal kook-detectives, and as usual, Charles plucked preferences out of his customers' minds and made coffee while Raven kept up the semblance of taking orders. 

He hadn't even looked up when he heard the clunky bronze bell at the door ring as someone entered the cafe, or when Raven settled him at one of the tables for two at the windows, but he did glance up sharply when he reached habitually towards the customer's mind to check what he wanted and came up against what felt like a gray, buzzing sense of  _nothing_.

Totally taken aback, Charles nearly spilled hot frothed milk over himself, and it took a few fumbled attempts at balancing before Miss Nevile's cappuccino (soy, light on the chocolate, butter biscuit side serve) was ready to go. Raven eyed him oddly when she took the coffees for table three, and Charles peeked out from behind the monster of the coffee machine, a veteran for trouble, conscious of the baseball bat that Raven had squirreled away under the counter.

The stranger was staring openly at him, without any attempt at tact or common courtesy, expressionless, and as Charles blinked at the blatant once-over, the stranger smiled faintly, mirthlessly, and pointedly turned his head to look out of the window. He certainly wasn't a regular - hell, he didn't even look like he was from around town, and he was far too well dressed to be a tourist or a run-of-the-mill paranormal kook-spotter. Curious, Charles reached out again, and yet again came up with the gray blur of nothing.

"Charles?" Raven murmured, when she scooted back to the counter. "What's up?"

"That new guy," Charles replied, as softly as he could, "I can't read his mind."

"What?" Raven, thankfully, did whirl around to eyeball the guy immediately. "That's never happened before. Is he like you?"

"No. I know what shields look like. He just has nothing. His mind is a blank. A blur." Charles muttered, thoroughly unnerved and yet intrigued at the same time. "It's remarkable, it's like there's something there, I can feel it, but it's all fogged over."

"So much for being the coffee whisperer," Raven said wryly, "I'll go take his order and actually pay attention this time, then." When Charles didn't smile at the gentle joke, Raven frowned a little. "Do you think that he's trouble?" 

"No. Yes. I don't know." Charles turned his attention back to the machine. "Just get his order."

The stranger wanted a macchiato, which Charles rather nervously made from rote; he couldn't pick out exactly how much sugar the stranger liked, or the way he liked the foamed milk to be added, or how strong a cup of coffee he wanted. It was the worst cup of coffee that Charles had ever made since Raven and himself had bought and outfitted Cerebro, but he couldn't look away when Raven took the coffee over to the stranger's table, unable to hide her open curiosity.

Depressingly enough, the stranger didn't drink, didn't do anything but occasionally stir the coffee and read the cafe's copy of the Times. Eventually, Raven marched manfully back to the table, probably to ask whether something was wrong, and the stranger merely smiled at her before waving her away.

"Maybe he's a cop," Raven hissed at Charles, when Charles arranged table four's order of cinnamon lattes and caramel mochas and avocado cheese toasties.

"I doubt it." Charles had met many cops, detectives and police prosecutors before in this line of work, especially after the articles had been published - a few of them were even regulars - and they didn't look like the stranger. Cops had a particular way of seating themselves in an attempt to watch the entirety of their room at the same time, and a cop would probably have come in with one of the regular cops.As the day edged towards closing time - five o' clock - Raven pointedly slipped the bill onto the stranger's table as the other customers paid up and started to trickle away, and the stranger pushed over a ten dollar bill, ignored the change that came back, and stayed put.

"Let's call Armando and Alex," Raven whispered, looking strained now as she scurried back to Charles' side. "He's a troublemaker."

"He hasn't made any trouble so far. I'll talk to him, he's here for me. Call the police if there's a problem. You can go into the back room-"

"No. You want to talk to that stranger, I'm going to be right there with you," Raven replied stubbornly, and Charles sighed - he knew that look all too well, with that jutting jaw and folded arms.

 _Raven. This way, you can make a quick exit, and fetch Alex and Armando, or the cops._  Charles smiled ingratiatingly at his sister, and eventually, she rubbed a palm over her face.

 _Fine._

The stranger glanced up with a smile that had a trifle more warmth it in when Charles walked over, even as Raven hopped into the kitchens, leaving the door ajar. "Hello, Charles."

"Hi." Charles said, disoriented for a moment before he remembered belatedly that his name - and Raven's - had been plastered all over the local news a few months ago, anyway. The 'Coffee Whisperer', indeed. "I'm sorry, did you not like your coffee?"

"I don't actually drink coffee," the stranger admittedly, reaching over the table to shake hands, and his grip was cool and unhesitatingly firm, as though he could crush Charles' fingers if he wanted to, and he held on so long that he only let go when Charles tugged his hand away, unnerved again. "My name is Erik Lehnsherr."

"Nice to meet you, Erik, but we're actually closed for the day," Charles said, with a frown, "Also, we serve tea, and juice, if coffee wasn't to your tastes." What sort of person ordered coffee if he didn't  _like_  coffee?

"Let's leave that aside for now," Erik smiled, and this time, Charles thought that he saw the flash of pointed canines. Blinking, he sat back, and Erik folded his long, elegant fingers under the table. "I waited until closing time to speak with you."

"I don't do interviews, you'll have to schedule them," Charles said warily. Perhaps this was a particularly well-dressed kook detective after all. "Sorry to make you wait and disappoint you."

"You're hardly a disappointment, my dear," Erik purred - there was no real other way to describe the sound, all velvety promise, "And I've already been waiting for you for a very long time."

 _All right, call Alex and Armando,_  Charles told Raven regretfully, even as he felt his smile become fixed.  _It's one of those garden variety psychopaths._  "I'm afraid that I'll have to ask you to leave, Mister Lehnsherr."

Erik chuckled, clasping his hands together, resting his elbows on the table and pressing his chin to his fingers. "Wouldn't you like to know why you can't read my mind?"

And Charles did, all of a sudden - he was curious, he wanted to know who the stranger was, whether he was someone special - like Charles; but he could sense Raven's uncertainty and nervousness all the way from here, and he shook his head instead. "Perhaps tomorrow. You could come back during opening hours, and I'll have a chat with you whenever I'm free or on a break."

 _What_ , Raven told him, incredulous.

 _I really don't think he'll go without a fight,_  Charles replied defensively.

 _Alex and Armando are on their way with Sean, anyway_ , Raven replied, irritable.  _You can stop making nice with the crazy guy now._

Erik merely smiled again at him, and Charles didn't need telepathy to read the sudden dark hunger that crossed Erik's handsome features before it was shuttered away under his enigmatic mask, and his smile widened his time, baring his pointed teeth, and it didn't look like a smile any longer and-

"Very well," Erik said, even as Charles realized somewhat distantly that he had flattened himself back against the chair with his feet on the ground, fight or flight, and he was frozen as Erik reached over for his right hand, turning it wrist up, and then he seemed to  _sniff_  at the veins under the pale skin, before letting Charles go.Too astonished to say anything at all, Charles merely gaped when Erik inclined his head at him and got to his feet, stalking out of the cafe, the bell jangling hard against the wooden frame when he closed the door.

"What the fuck," Raven echoed the foremost thought in his mind, from the kitchen doorway, and Charles belatedly realized that she was brandishing a very big breadknife in her right hand. "And to think I thought that Westboro was the worst trouble that you could attract. I take that back. Give me the doomsday fanatics anytime."

"I don't think he means any harm," Charles said uncertainly, absently rubbing at his wrist, at the ghost pressure of Erik's fingers over his skin.

"Sure, some perverts probably strike you that way before they drag you into an alley and put their hands down your pants," Raven replied, unimpressed. "I'll get Alex and the others to sit in tomorrow, maybe. It's Saturday."

"I don't want any trouble."

Raven pointedly put the bread knife down on the counter. "Sometimes we don't have any choice."

**Author's Note:**

> I actually enjoy writing vampire AUs. It's terrible.


End file.
